Where do we go from here
by Spirit Lily0
Summary: Sherlock experiments on John. The results are not what he expected. Johnlock smut. Rated M for a reason. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**Where do we go from here**

John entered 221B and stood for a moment taking a breath. He knew Sherlock had been left alone all day with no cases on. The last one had been two days before. He prepared himself for what he would find when he entered the flat. Taking a deep breath he slowly made his way up the stairs, paused at the door of the flat, took another breath, and pushed the door open and stepped in. He was surprised to find the flat clean and neat as he had left it that morning. Sherlock was not in the sitting room. John took off his jacket and hung it by the door and saw that Sherlock's coat was gone. So he was out. Well he would have some peace for awhile until the whirlwind that is Sherlock exploded into the flat. John went to the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea. He put a teabag in his cup and stood at the kitchen window looking out at the bright, cool day as he waited for the kettle to boil. He let his mind wander back to that first day he met Sherlock and smiled. Sherlock is his best friend. The closest friend he's ever had.

"He's so beautiful," he thought.

Wait - what? John frowned. Where did that come from! He shook his head. He must be far more tired than he thought.

The kettle started whistling shaking him from his thoughts. He sighed and made his tea. Paused before opening the fridge afraid of what he would find in there. Yes there was milk, and no body parts. He opened the milk and sniffed. It was good. Smiling he poured some in his tea, and put it away. He carried his tea into the sitting room and set it on the table by his chair and sat. He picked up his laptop from the coffee table, opened it, logged onto his blog, and lost himself writing up the last case, and checking his email.

Two hours later, there was still no Sherlock, John's tea was cold, and his eyes were tired. He closed his laptop, set it on the coffee table, got up, and stretched. He grabbed his cold tea, took it to the kitchen, poured it in the sink, and set the cup in the sink for washing later.

"Bedtime, I think," he announced to the empty flat.

He ascended the stairs to his room and closed the door, undressed and put on his pyjama pants and t-shirt, and crawled into bed. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Sherlock slipped in the door of 221B and quietly ascended the stairs making sure to avoid the squeaky step. He didn't want to wake John. He was always grumpy when he woke him before he had his full 8 hours of sleep. He had certainly run him ragged with the last case.

Sherlock stepped quietly into the sitting room, removed his coat, and hung it by the door. He was looking forward to some time with his experiments. One in particular interested him. He moved quickly to the fridge, opening it, he looked at the milk.

Yes! John had made himself tea. Then he saw the teacup in the sink, the stains telling him that John had let it go cold, and poured it down the drain. He noted the laptop on the coffee table. John must have let it go cold while working on his blog. Blast, he was foiled again. He'd have to get John to drink some of the milk in his tea tomorrow. A calculating look crossed Sherlock's face. Yes he would make tea for John tomorrow morning. No, make him breakfast. Yes John would like that. Smiling, Sherlock made his way to the couch and flopped down, and steepled his fingers as he went to his mind palace.

John slowly opened his eyes and blinked at the bright sunlight streaming through the window. He stretched, smiling to himself. He had heard Sherlock come home trying to be quiet. He appreciated the times when Sherlock let him catch up on his sleep. The last case took more than a week to solve and he was bone tired trying to keep up with him. He got up, and showered and dressed, and started down the stairs. He stopped, sniffing the air. Was Sherlock cooking? What was he cooking? It smelled delicious. He quickly jogged down the remaining stairs and entered the sitting room. Sherlock was in the kitchen, and he was indeed making breakfast. John entered the kitchen, smiling.

"What's all this then?", he addressed Sherlock.

"I was hungry and thought I'd make breakfast for both of us", Sherlock replied, turning with a smile.

Sherlock hungry! This was indeed a good day. He wouldn't complain if Sherlock was eating. He ate far too little for John's liking.

John sat at the table as Sherlock brought two plates of bacon, eggs, and toast to the table. He grabbed two cups of tea and placed one in front of John and sat. John nodded his thanks and dug into his breakfast. It was delicious. The tea was hot and strong. The eggs were over easy. The bacon was crisp. Everything was perfect. Just the way he liked it. When he finished he sat back, pleased to see that Sherlock had eaten all his breakfast as well.

"So, what's on for the day?", John asked.

Sherlock took a sip of his tea and replied, "I have several experiments I'd like to work on."

John nodded. "Well, I'll leave you to it then", and getting up with his tea, he moved into the sitting room. He sat his tea on the desk, and grabbed his laptop from the coffee table. He decided to work on his story for the blog for awhile. Behind him Sherlock smirked, checked his watch, and engrossed himself in his experiments. He would give John about an hour. That should give the chemical time to take effect.

Sherlock sighed, and stretched, and stood. He looked at John again, and smirked. Time for a test. He walked nonchalantly over to the couch and flopped down. He looked at John and said, "So how was work yesterday?"

John looked up and replied, "Alright, I guess." Sherlock didn't reply but continued to look at him. He was expecting him to say more apparently. He felt a sudden compulsion to tell Sherlock more. "There was mostly flu cases. I had a hypochondriac who was convinced that he had an obscure disease. I had to set the arm of a 6 year old who fell out of a tree. Sarah was angry with me for some reason….." He felt like he couldn't stop talking, like he needed to tell Sherlock everything. John glared at Sherlock, "What have you given me this time, Sherlock?"

Sherlock glanced at John. He was angry. He was getting better and quicker at deducing Sherlock's actions. "I am trying to make my own truth serum. It might come in handy on one of our cases, but I needed to test it first."

John stood abruptly, and left the room, heading up to his room. Sherlock followed quickly, not wanting to waste the dosage he had given John. He caught the door before John could get it closed, and eased himself inside. John turned in the center of the room and glared at Sherlock. "I told you before I am not one of your experiments," he growled angrily. "Do I have to tell you every bloody time?"

"John, I couldn't test it on just anyone. I had to test it on someone I know. I have to know how effective it is. I couldn't very well test it on Lestrade or Molly."

Although it might have been fun to give some to Anderson and Donovan. That would be entertaining. Hmm he'd have to try that some time.

"I don't care who you use for an experiment, but you don't get to use me."

"It had to be you, John. It had to be someone I knew was telling the truth. That's the only way I could be sure the drug was working. Really we're friends and flatmates. What is there about you that I don't know already?"

John froze, his eyes wide. He could feel all those things he didn't want Sherlock to know about him bubbling up wanting to get out. He fought it valiantly, and then, as if in a surreal dream, he heard himself telling Sherlock, "You don't know quite a lot of things about me. You don't know that I dream about Afghanistan. You don't know that I dream about you a lot. You don't know that I'm bisexual. You don't know that I watch you when you're not looking. I like the way you move, the way you smile. It's all so catlike. So graceful. So sexy."

John's stomach lurched as he heard himself continue, "That first day we met I thought you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I wanted you from the very first moment."

John stopped, horrified. Oh god what has he done. What will Sherlock think. He'll have to move out. He sat on the edge of his bed, and dropped his face in his hands. His face was red, he could feel the heat.

Sherlock stood shocked at John's admissions. He swallowed, unsure what to say, not wanting to make things worse. Sentiment was not his area. He slowly backed towards the door. John turned and looked at him. "So that's it then. You're just going to run away."

Sherlock stopped, afraid to say anything. He looked around the room for distraction.

He swallowed, "I'm sorry, John…." He wasn't sure what else to say.

John was shocked. Sherlock actually apologized? He never apologizes. John got up and walked towards him slowly, afraid to startle him, as if he was skittish.

Sherlock watched John warily, unsure what was happening. He felt the sudden, subtle shift in the room. He was confused. John didn't look angry anymore. There was something else in his eyes now. He couldn't place it.

John was close to Sherlock now. He reached out and touched Sherlock on the shoulder and saw him blink, confused. Then he saw his pupils dilate, his breath quickened, his cheeks turned pink. "Interesting!", John thought. He knew the signs of attraction, and arousal. He was a doctor after all. He wouldn't have thought Sherlock would feel emotions. He obviously kept them well hidden behind that cool, abrasive manner.

John looked up into Sherlock's confused eyes for a moment, then slid his fingers up into those silky, dark curls and pulled his head down, and pressed his lips to Sherlock's.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi All: This was originally supposed to be one chapter, but the story seems to be taking on a life of it's own. We'll see where it takes us.

I am don't own Sherlock, blah, blah, blah.

Where Do We Go From Here Chapter 2

John was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea watching some crap telly. He wasn't really following the show. It was more background noise because he was thinking about that morning.

When he had kissed Sherlock, the detective had stiffened at first, and then he had relaxed and started kissing John back. He held felt Sherlock's hands tentatively touch his hips, and then Mrs. Hudson had called out "Woohoo" as she came up the stairs. Sherlock had pulled away and flew down the stairs to his room like a frightened rabbit, nearly running into their landlady on the landing below. This, of course, left a very frustrated John standing at the top of the stairs to his room.

Mrs. Hudson, being the motherly woman she was, had brought up some homemade scones and tea for "her boys". John had gratefully accepted the delicious fare from their landlady (not your housekeeper). He knew Sherlock would stay in his room until he could process the reactions and emotions that had been ignited by the kiss. He put some scones and jam, and a cup of tea on a tray, and had left it by Sherlock's door, knocked lightly, and walked away. He looked down the hallway a little later, and saw the tray was gone from outside the door. He smiled, glad that Sherlock would at least make an effort to eat something.

John knew Sherlock well, and knew he needed the time to himself right now. He called into work and told Sarah that he needed some time off. Sarah agreed commenting that the last case was probably very tiring for him. "Well she's not mad at him anymore anyways", he thought. He let her believe that that was why he needed the time. If he didn't need to explain the situation between himself and Sherlock right now, that was better. He wanted to talk with Sherlock first, so he knew where things would go from here.

He wanted to make sure he was here when Sherlock was ready to talk about what had happened. John was ready to be honest now about his feelings for Sherlock, and he wanted to know how Sherlock felt too. That was why he let Sherlock take all the time he needed, so he could sort out his own feelings. The detective was obviously attracted to his army doctor. John had seen occasional flashes of it even if Sherlock hadn't known he'd shown that.

John had some scones and tea, and then set to work cleaning and dusting the flat. That done he decided to risk a short walk, and when he came in he saw Sherlock's tea tray on the table empty. _Good he had eaten again._ It was surprising that the detective had eaten twice that day. Probably wouldn't get anymore into him for a few days now.

That was this morning. Now it was evening and there was no sight or sound of the younger man. He could be a very patient man, and right now he would wait as long as the detective needed.

He was immediately alert when he heard the detective's door open and the quiet footfalls down the hall. Then Sherlock was standing beside the couch. He was wearing his sleeping pants, t-shirt, and blue silk bathrobe. He stood with his head down, hands worrying and twisting a corner of his bathrobe, eyes darting nervously around the floor. John couldn't believe how adorable he was. He looked so young, and unsure of himself. He pretended to be engrossed in the telly wanting to let Sherlock feel comfortable enough to sit. Moments, that felt like hours to John, passed, and then Sherlock sat on the other end of the couch staying on the edge of the seat. Slowly he slid down the couch closer to John until he was sitting right beside him.

Then, without warning, he took John's face in his hands, and kissed him. It was tentative and soft, as unsure as the man himself seemed to be. John closed his eyes and responded, letting Sherlock control the kiss. The detective lifted his head and John opened his eyes to see Sherlock looking down at him with dilated pupils, pink cheeks, and breathing quickly.

John smiled and before he could say anything Sherlock took his lips in a heated kiss that had him moaning against the detective's warm mouth. He flicked his tongue along Sherlock's soft lower lip and he gasped, opening his mouth. John's tongue delved in and danced with the detective's tongue, touching and tasting everywhere.

He felt Sherlock slide into his lap, straddling him, their erections pressing together, making them both moan. John's arms were around the detective, hands sliding over cool blue silk feeling the muscles shift under his fingers. Sherlock gasped again, and John pulled the silk robe off the detective's shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. His hands slid up under the shirt feeling the soft skin on Sherlock's back.

John felt his jumper being tugged up and broke the kiss long enough for it to be pulled off. The garment was thrown to the floor as Sherlock's hands slid under his t-shirt. John gasped and moaned as long fingers tweaked his nipples. The doctor's own hands slid over the younger man's warm skin, pulling the shirt off and throwing it to the floor.

Sherlock rocked his hips and their erections rubbed together again, making them both moan. They were getting frantic now, tugging off garments until they were both naked and moaning, rubbing against one another.

John pulled back then and looked up at the detective and said, "Bed?" Sherlock jumped up quickly, grabbing the doctor's hand and dragging him down the hall to his room, quickly closing the door behind them.

**A/N: **Please R&R. Be gentle, this is my first fanfic. Let me know if there's any ideas you would like to see in this story. I have no beta reader or brit picker right now, so if you know of anyone please let me know. Thanks :D


	3. Chapter 3

Hi Again: some more smut for you. No plot in this chapter. :D

I do not own Sherlock, blah, blah, blah.

John was pushed onto the bed, Sherlock straddling him so fast he didn't have time to process it. The detective kissed him passionately, and John moaned sliding his arms around the younger man, marvelling at the silky skin and lean muscle. He pulled Sherlock close and their erections brushed, making John's hips buck up. The detective ground their erections together, sensitive skin sliding against sensitive skin, making them both hotter. Sherlock moved his mouth down the doctor's body raining kisses, bites, and nips everywhere. He stopped to explore the scar at his shoulder with his tongue, before moving lower. The detective loved the feel of the muscles moving under the army doctor's tanned skin. Sherlock's tongue circled the dusky nipples, sucking the inflamed nubs until John was writhing with pleasure, and moaning "Sher-Sherlock, yes, yes". He was arching his back trying to gain more friction, going crazy. The younger man was at his hips now licking, and kissing, moving lower still.

Then, without warning, he took John's engorged cock in his mouth. The doctor cried out, arching up again, mouth open, panting, looking at Sherlock's full lips engulfing him. Then his head fell back on the bed, groaning, as the other man started sucking up his length, tongue circling around the sensitive head, and back down again until John could feel the heat pooling low in his stomach.

He tugged on Sherlock's curls, "Sherlock",he panted_, _"I'm not going to last much longer".

The detective lifted his head, moving up to take the doctor's lips again. John slid his tongue into the other man's mouth, tasting himself there. He flipped them both over so that he was straddling Sherlock hips. He kissed down his neck, stopping to suck on the sensitive skin just below Sherlock's ear. The younger man gasped, and thrust his hips up and their cocks brushed against each other, he cried out, bucking up again. He couldn't stop, he kept thrusting against the doctor, and John groaned with pleasure.

He moved down the younger man's body kissing and licking, flicking his tongue over Sherlock's nipples. The detective gasped and then cried out, writhing helplessly as John sucked first one pink nipple and then the other. _I bet I could make him cum from just this_ the doctor thought.

He kissed and nipped his way down over the detective's stomach, licking, tasting the salt on his skin, and lower until he was at Sherlock's cock. He flicked his tongue over the tip _Salty_ and circled the head, flicking over the glans, listening to the detective's gasps and moans and cries of pleasure. Then he swallowed his cock down as far as it could go, Sherlock bucked up, nearly choking John. The doctor pushed his hips back to the bed and continued to suck and circle and slide back down, cupping and gently squeezing his balls at the same time.

"John, please", he groaned.

John pulled his mouth away listening to the moan of protest from Sherlock. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the bottle of lube he saw there, lifted it so Sherlock could see it and said, "this okay?"

"Yes, get on with it." Sherlock growled.

_Bossy aren't we?_ John thought.

He poured a liberal amount of lube on his fingers, coating them well, and then took Sherlock's lips in a heated kiss as he slid fingers between his legs and back further. John circled his entrance, then slid one finger in past the tight ring of muscles, pushing in slowly until he was all the way inside, then slowly slid his finger out and back in again.

"Relax", John breathed against Sherlock's lips.

A moment later, he felt the muscles relax. He slid two fingers in, moving them back and forth, scissoring and stretching. Then he slid three fingers in, feeling for the prostate. When the detective gasped and arched up, he knew he'd found it. He continued to brush the sensitive bundle of nerves until Sherlock was writhing and moaning and crying out. A light sheen of sweat was covering his body, his pale skin pink.

John pulled his fingers out, coating his own aching cock liberally. He lifted Sherlock's legs to his shoulders, positioned himself at his entrance, and pushed in slowly. Sherlock hissed at the burn. The doctor kept moving until he was completely inside the detective. He was warm and silky, and it was unlike anything he had ever felt. He stopped for a few moments, letting the other man's body get used to him. He started thrusting slowly at first, the younger man gasping and bucking up, taking John's cock deep inside himself. The doctor shifted a little and hit that sweet spot again, and kept hitting it with every thrust. He thrust faster and faster, both of them crying out, bucking wildly.

Sherlock could feel the heat pooling low in his stomach, his muscles tightening, as John pounded into him. He was so close. "Sherlock," John gasped " I'm close", and then the younger man stiffened, arching off the bed, head thrown back, coming so hard he was screaming, coating both their stomachs. John wasn't far behind, feeling the muscles tighten around him, pushing him over the edge, screaming Sherlock's name. The doctor collapsed on the detective both catching their breath.

They lay that way for a time before John pulled out, rolled over onto his side, and grabbed some tissues from the bedside table, cleaning up himself and Sherlock. He looked at the detective, "You okay? I didn't hurt you?"

"No", he said, looking up at John, smiling contentedly, "It was amazing."

John smiled, and lay back. Sherlock curled up against his doctor, head on his chest. John pulled the blankets over both of them. They slept.

**A/N:** Thank you for reading. Let me know if there is anything you would like to see in this story.

Please R&R. Reviews are love.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi : I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue this story or not.

John awoke to another bright day. The sun was shining in the window of Sherlock's bedroom. At that thought, John sat up and looked around the room. No Sherlock. Not that he really expecting him to be there still. He didn't sleep much. John thought he should sleep more, but knew that was never likely to happen. He stretched and got up, feeling great. Sex tended to put the doctor in a good mood.

_Hmmm, really good sex,_ John thought.

He grabbed one of Sherlock's silk robes, put it on, and wandered down the hall to the bathroom. John stepped in, closed the door, and brushed his teeth. Then took off the robe and took a shower. He was humming a song he'd heard Sherlock play on the violin once.

It was only once. He'd walked into the flat unexpectedly early one day, and Sherlock was playing a beautiful piece of music on the violin. He had stopped in the doorway and listened for a time, enjoying the music. Mrs. Hudson had come up just then and had exclaimed loudly about John being home already. Sherlock had immediately stopped playing, put his violin on his chair, and greeted John and Mrs. Hudson. The landlady had come up with some homemade jam for them. She set it on the kitchen counter tut tutting about the state of the flat, and went back downstairs.

John finished showering, and got out, drying himself with one of Sherlock's fluffy towels. They felt nice. He put the silk robe back on again and exited the bathroom, heading for the kitchen with tea and toast on his mind.

Sherlock was at his microscope looking at slides for one of his experiments. John went to the counter, filled the kettle, plugged it in, and put some bread in the toaster. He turned, leaned against the counter, and looked at Sherlock. His back was to him. He watched Sherlock take one slide off the microscope and put another one on.

_God _he thought _he's graceful even doing that._

The whistle of the kettle broke John from his thoughts. He turned and made his tea and toast, and took it to sit at the table where Sherlock worked.

"Morning, John, have a good sleep?"

"Yes I did. Did you sleep at all?"

"Yes it was quite satisfactory", he smiled.

The detective had looked up once from his microscope during this exchange.

"So, don't you think we should talk about this?"

"Talk about what?"

"About what happened last night. Between us, I mean."

"We had sex, John. What is there to talk about?"

"Is that all it was to you? Sex? Was I just a one night stand?", John said, sounding a little hurt.

Sherlock sighed, and looked up from the microscope. Looking at John, he smiled and said, "Well I hope that wasn't just once. How about you?"

"I wouldn't mind it happening again as often as you want."

"Good. I'd like it to happen every night", Sherlock said as John sipped his tea.

John coughed and set his tea down. "Y-You'd like that every night?"

"Yes I would. It was quite enjoyable, better than I'd thought it would be. You're quite a good lover, John."

John reddened at the detective's words, then said, "So are what does that make us? Boyfriends? Partners? A couple?"

"Do we need to define what this is that we have?", Sherlock said.

"No I suppose not", John said, rubbing his neck, "so we're in a relationship now?"

"You do want to be in a relationship with me don't you, John?"

"Yes, of course, I do. It's just….."

"Yes?"

"I want to know that you really want to be in a relationship that's all."

"Yes, John, I've always wanted to be in a relationship with you", Sherlock stood and walk around the corner of the table to John and knelt in front of him, taking his face in his hands. "John, I …", he swallowed, "I love you."

John felt like he'd stopped breathing, his heart was singing. _Sherlock loves me? Sherlock loves me! _He smiled broadly, "Good, cause I love you too."

Sherlock smiled, leaned forward, and kissed John. John slid his arm around the detective's neck and returned the kiss. It was sweet, and chaste. Not like the heated kisses of last night. Sherlock leaned back, and smiled again. John was happy, the happiest he'd ever been. He was Sherlock's lover! He elated and apprehensive at the same time.

John had gone upstairs to get dressed and ready for work. Sherlock sat in the kitchen listening to the good doctor moving around in his room. The detective frowned as he thought about the exchange with John earlier. He wasn't really sure how he felt. For that matter, he wasn't sure if he loved John. He wasn't even sure what love was supposed to feel like.

He heard John coming down the stairs from his room, and Sherlock looked up as he entered the kitchen.

"I'm off to work, love", John said with a big smile. Sherlock smiled and said, "Have a good day."

John nodded and headed down the stairs. Sherlock heard him talk briefly with Mrs. Hudson, and then the front door closed. The detective got up from his stool in the kitchen, walked over to the window that looked down on Baker Street and watched John have difficulty hailing a taxi. It took a little time, but the doctor eventually got a taxi, and was whisked away.

Sherlock turned from the window and looked around the sitting room, not really seeing anything. He stood like this for a time, and then he walked with purpose to the coat rack, grabbed his coat, and left as well.

John got out of the taxi, paid, and stepped to the curb. The doctor watched the taxi move off down the street and turn the corner. He turned and looked up at the house he stood in front of, walked up to the door, knocked, and a moment later, was let in the door.

Sherlock knew perfectly well that John was not going to work. John had taken the week off. He wasn't aware that Sherlock had heard him talking to Sarah the previous day. Sherlock was fairly certain he knew where John was going, so he took a shortcut to the quiet, residential street. He turned the corner just in time to see the doctor exit the taxi, and look up and down the street before entering the non-descript house. Sherlock may not have been sure of his own feelings towards John, but he knew some feelings. Like the jealousy he was feeling now. He didn't want John in there. He watched the house until John left two hours later.

The detective continued to follow John. He wanted to see what else he did. John walked a couple blocks to a local deli, the doctor stepped inside, and emerged a few minutes later with a full bag. Presumably lunch. So John intended to stay away from the flat for the day, and keep up the ruse that he was at work.

John took a walk in the park. It was a glorious warm day, and perfect for a walk. It was early spring, and the trees were just starting to bud leaves. The doctor walked along pathways and stopped be a lake for a short time. Then moved on. Sherlock watched as an attractive woman approached John, and he seethed with jealousy. The woman was clearly trying to pick John up. How dare that vixen hit on his John.

John talked for a moment or two with the woman, then shook his head, and she moved off down the pathway, clearly disappointed. _My John!_ Sherlock thought, fiercely glaring at the retreating back of the woman. She disappeared around the bend in the path and the detective noticed that John had not followed her retreat as he would have only a few days ago.

John continued to meander around the park until he came to bench, where he sat and opened the bag he carried. He pulled out sandwiches and sat back admiring the lake in front of him. He finished and washed it all down with a bottle of water. His repast done, he gathered everything into the bag again, and tossed it in a garbage.

He left the park and walked along streets looking in shop windows. He did this for nearly an hour, and Sherlock was beginning to get bored, when the doctor suddenly entered a shop. After nearly 30 minutes he came out of the shop with a box wrapped and tied with ribbon. He was smiling happily. He moved off down the street now with purpose. Sherlock started to follow when he heard the ringing of bells telling him it was nearly 6 p.m.

Had he really just spent the whole day following and watching John?

He decided it would be best to get home quickly. The doctor was undoubtedly heading back to the flat. Sherlock took off at a fast pace determined to make it home before John.

John entered 221B with the small, wrapped gift in his hand and quickly knocked on Mrs. Hudson's door. The lady answered and John stepped inside. Once inside her flat, he said, "I have a gift for Sherlock, but I don't want him to see it just yet. Can you hold onto it for me for a couple days?"

"Of course, dear", Mrs. Hudson said, "It's for his birthday isn't it."

John smiled sheepishly and admitted that it was indeed for Sherlock's birthday.

"I don't want him to find it. You know what he's like."

"Certainly, but what makes you think he would know about it."

"He's been following me around all day. I'm not as stupid or unobservant as he seems to think most people. He'll tear the place apart looking for it. But if he sees me arriving in the flat without it, he'll know I left it somewhere else. I better get going he'll be waiting for me to go up to the flat."

"All right get going then", the landlady said nudging John towards the door, "and don't worry your secret is safe with me."

Sherlock entered his bedroom by the window and quickly closed it, divesting himself of his coat, and hanging it in his room. He heard John just entering the flat's sitting room.

"Sherlock?"

"In here", he called, quickly grabbing his laptop and jumping on the bed. He quickly opened it, and thanked whatever gods might be that he had left it in sleep mode. He quickly logged in, and was browsing an experiment file when John walked into his room.

"So been in here all day then?", John asked, walking over to the bed.

Sherlock nodded his head absently, already lost in his files. John nudged the detective's arm, and he moved over on the bed to make room for his army doctor. John sat beside and leaned over and looked at the computer screen.

"So this is what you've been doing all day?", John asked, trying not to smirk.

"Mmmmmm", Sherlock agreed, still engrossed in his files.

John sighed, leaned over, took the younger man's face in his hands, turned his face to him, and kissed him. Sherlock eagerly kissed back, laptop forgotten.

John leaned back a little, smiling, and said, "Got your attention now?"

The detective vigorously nodded his head, the dark curls bouncing.

"Good", said John, "Now mind telling me why you felt the need to follow me all day?"

Sherlock's eyes grew wide, and he swallowed.

John was getting better at spotting a tail. He'd have to be more careful in future.

"Hey, I'm right here, you git. Now, do you mind answering my question?"

Sherlock looked down, nervously licking his lips. He looked up at John and saw nothing but an open, trusting expression. _How could be tell John. It would hurt him to know that he, Sherlock, didn't know how he really felt._

The detective looked away and said, "I saw you go into that woman's house this morning."

John raised his eyebrows. _So I am right. He did follow him from the moment he left the flat._ " 'That woman' has a name Sherlock."

The younger man rolled his eyes, and said, "Deleted it."

"Sara, Sherlock. Her name is Sara. You remember, my boss?"

Sherlock frowned and pouted.

John had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. God he was so adorable when he did that. He was like a large child sometimes.

"Why did you go to her house this morning", Sherlock said, failing to keep the jealous inflection out of his words.

John smirked then, "Sherlock Holmes, are you jealous of a woman?"

"Well you did date her for awhile."

"Yes and she dumped me because she decided it was too dangerous dating me."

"Oh", Sherlock said weakly.

"Come on then. I'll make us some dinner."

"Actually, I think we should go out tonight. To celebrate our new relationship."

John, standing at the side of the bed, glanced at Sherlock and said, "Alright. Where would you like to go?"

The detective thought for a moment and said, "How about Angelo's?"

"Alright. I'll go grab my jacket, and we can go."

Sherlock set aside his laptop and jumped off the bed, and grabbed his coat from where he'd hung it, while John hurried over to the hook to grab his coat.

They went down the stairs and out the door, not seeing Mrs. Hudson standing at her door, peaking out. "Well it's about time they got together", she said, and closed her door.

**A/N:** Thanks so much all of you following and favouriting my story. It makes me squeal with delight. I hope this chapter has left you tickled with the way John and Sherlock's relationship is going. More chapters ahead. You never know what will happen with these two. ;-)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hi Dear Readers, Sorry I haven't updated lately. I have had a busy week at work. I am on holidays now, so I should have another chapter for you early next week. Thanks to all my followers and favouriters. I love your reviews. :D


	6. Chapter 6

Hi: I'm so sorry it took me so long to update. I just wasn't happy with this chapter so I rewrote it. Hope you like it. Fair warning: smut ahead

Sherlock and John sat in Angelo's in their favourite window seat, only this time they weren't watching for a serial killer cabbie. They had just finished their meal and were enjoying the last of their wine. The detective had fidgeted all through the meal. John was curious what was on the younger man's mind that had him so distracted.

"So going to tell me what's been on your mind?", the doctor inquired.

Sherlock looked at John for a moment, lowered his eyes, and said quietly, "You didn't answer my question from earlier."

"What question is that?", John asked.

"I asked you why you were at that wom- uh Sara's house this morning", he pouted.

"I talked to her about taking less hours, so I could spend more time with you. I want to help you more with cases, too."

Sherlock looked up surprised, "Oh!"

"You seem surprised, Sherlock. Why did you think I went there."

"Oh, no reason.", Sherlock evaded.

John smiled, reached over and took Sherlock's hand in his and said, "You know I would never leave you, right?"

Sherlock looked relieved as John chuckled quietly. He knew he loved Sherlock and couldn't leave him for anything.

"Let's head home, okay?"

"Okay."

Sherlock and his doctor got up and put their coats on. They didn't have to worry about paying. Angelo would be scandalized if they tried.

Outside on the street, John hesitated a second, and then cautiously took Sherlock's hand in his. The detective looked at John and smiled happily. They walked all the way home hand in hand, enjoying each other's company without having to say a word.

John was happy. He didn't know how Sherlock would react to the doctor holding his hand. He was pleased to discover that the younger man seemed to enjoy it. John felt a little self-conscious at first, but then decided he shouldn't worry about what other people thought.

Back at Baker Street, they let themselves in, and took the stairs quickly. John was feeling a little anxious with what he was going to do next.

They stepped into their flat, closed the door, and hung up their coats. Sherlock was heading for the kitchen and his experiments. John followed, and stood in the doorway, and asked, "Were you going to be at that for long?"

"I was thinking of a couple of experiments I could do tonight."

"Oh, okay." John said, hesitantly.

Sherlock looked over at him and frowned, "Was there something specific you wanted then?"

John walked over to Sherlock, looked up at him and said, "I believe you had mentioned that there was something you'd enjoy doing every night?"

Sherlock smiled widely, and said, "Yes there was, if you are amenable to the idea, Doctor."

"Oh God yes."

The detective grabbed John's hand and dragged him down the hall to the bedroom, the doctor chuckling quietly all the way. He was secretly quite pleased, too.

In the bedroom, John found himself quickly pressed against the closed door. Sherlock was kissing him passionately, and pressing his already half hard cock against the doctor's hip. John surrendered himself to this delicious onslaught, sliding his arms around the detective's waist and pulling him closer.

Sherlock was holding John's face and kissing, licking, biting, and sucking at the doctor's lips. He just couldn't seem to ever get enough of this. The detective could hear his doctor moaning and gasping as he moved his lips slowly over his jaw to the sensitive just below his ear. Then down his neck, John tilting his head back to allow the younger man more access.

The army doctor felt long fingers undoing his button down shirt, and lips following, kissing each bit of skin as it was exposed. He stood with legs trembling as Sherlock moved slowly down his chest and then his stomach. His shirt was pulled off his shoulders by those long fingers. Then they were working on his belt. John could feel himself getting harder.

Was Sherlock really going to do this?

His trousers were pulled open, and along with his pants, slid down his thighs to his feet. His shoes were untied, and each foot lifted to remove shoe and sock, as well as pants and trousers from around his ankles. He was completely naked now, still against the door, and achingly hard.

He felt Sherlock's fingers slowly stroking over his ankles and calves, and then up the insides of his thighs. All the while, he could feel the detective's breath ghosting over his cock, making it twitch with need.

Those talented fingers continued their way over his hips, and stroking his stomach. Then John gasped as Sherlock's tongue touched the tip of his very hard cock teasing him. He bucked and felt one hand press him back against the door and hold him there. That delicious tongue continued to tease until John thought he was going to go crazy. Just when he thought he couldn't stand it anymore a wet, heat enveloped his cock, and he cried out.

He looked down to see those cupid's bow lips wrapped around his cock, Sherlock looking up at him through long lashes. The sight made him impossibly harder. That talented mouth licked, and circled, and sucked until he couldn't think anymore. The doctor's hands were trying to find something to hold onto, feeling sure his legs wouldn't hold out anymore. A strong hand grabbed John's scrambling hands and put them on the other man's shoulders. One hand moved to tangle in those delightful, silky curls.

Sherlock cupped and fondled the doctor's balls making the doctor cry out and bang his head back against the door. Then just when John couldn't stand it anymore, one long finger moved back and pressed against his perineum.

"Oh god, Sh-Sherlock"

The doctor was very close, he could feel the heat pooling low in his stomach as his orgasm approached, blissfully unaware of his cries of pleasure. His muscles tightened, and he was cumming so hard he was screaming, his back arching off the door. Sherlock held on, tasting every drop, holding John up.

Sherlock pulled back and the doctor slid down the door to the floor, breathing heavily, legs shaking. The younger man wrapped his arms around his doctor and held him while he came down from the orgasm.

Breathing finally slowing down, John looked up at Sherlock and said, "My god, where did you learn to do that so well?"

Sherlock smirked and said, "I watched what pleased you last night and deduced what you would like best."

John chuckled giddily against the younger man's shoulder, then lifted his head and looked at the detective's lap and saw that he was extremely hard.

"I can help you with that."

"Please do", Sherlock said as the doctor smiled wickedly.

John stood on shaky legs, and pulled the younger man to his feet guiding him to the bed. He kissed him softly at first, slowly undoing his button down and kissing the soft skin underneath, mirroring what the detective had done to him earlier. Shirt undone, he slowly slid the silk off pale shoulders, and down lean arms to drop to the floor. The belt followed next, and then trousers, and pants slid over slim hips and down long legs to pool on the floor. They were quickly discarded along with socks and shoes.

The doctor pushed the detective down onto the bed, and climbed between splayed thighs. John started at the shoulders, tasting every inch of soft, ivory skin, pulling gasps and moans from that beautiful mouth. He moved lower, tongue circling and flicking one hardened nub before drawing it into his mouth, sucking hard. Sherlock gasped, arching his back and pressing against the doctor's mouth, John sucking harder. His mouth moved slowly across the younger man's chest to other hard nipple, again circling and flicking, before sucking hard, making Sherlock cry out and arch his back again, pressing against that hot mouth.

John moved lower, continuing to taste soft skin until he reached short, curly hairs. There he diverged over to canting hips and trembling thighs, listening to the gasping and moaning. He loved hearing his name fall from those beautiful lips with such intensity.

"John, John, John…. Oh yes….Oh god….Unnggh."

John moved quickly to grab the small object he'd hidden under the bed earlier, along with some lube, and was back on the bed between splayed thighs. He smiled wickedly, Sherlock was going to be in for a surprise.

His took just the head into his mouth, his tongue teasing at the slit that was already dripping precum, Sherlock's continued litany in his ears. John reached down to grab the lube and slicked his fingers, then reached back to the detective's entrance. His hips jerked and he gasped as he felt the doctor's fingers slowly circling his entrance. Then one finger pushed slowly in, stopping to let the younger man adjust. The slick finger started moving slowly in and out, and then a second finger joined the first making Sherlock hiss at the stretch. The army doctor's mouth continued to its teasing of the hard and throbbing cock, his fingers scissoring and stretching.

The younger man was keening at the loss of those delightful fingers, when he felt something small and slim slide into him just as John took his cock all the way into his mouth making the detective cry out and when he felt a vibration touching his prostate he arched up off the bed, crying out again.

The combination of John's mouth and the vibrating inside him was driving him wild, bucking up against a restraining hand, and back onto that wonderful toy.

John was holding Sherlock's hips down with one hand, holding the small vibrator inside the younger man on his prostate, and sucking the rock hard cock. Then suddenly he felt the detective stiffen his cock getting incredibly harder and then he was screaming and cumming so hard his whole body shook. The doctor turned off the toy and slowly pulled it out, then lifted his head to look at the detective laying on the bed panting and still shaking, his chest and face pink and sweating. He had never seen Sherlock speechless before and was smiling at that. The younger man lay limply looking at the ceiling unable to focus on anything.

John set the lube and vibrator on the bedside table and lay beside Sherlock, gathering him into his arms. The detective's breathing slowed, and finally looked up at his doctor and said, "Wow."

He couldn't get anymore out and John smiled and kissed his detective. He pulled covers around both of them and they fell into a fitful sleep.

**A/N:** Thank you so much for sticking with this little fic. I don't realy have any set number of chapters that I planned. I'm just seeing where the story takes us.


	7. Chapter 7

Hi: Here is the next chapter. Also, I noticed that I hadn't been saying "I don't own Sherlock, blah, blah, blah".

John awoke slowly, the sun lighting up Sherlock's room. He laid still for a moment or two, waking up, and then stretching and yawning. He felt movement behind him and then a long, pale arm slid around him pulling him back against a warm body.

"Morning, love", came a sleepy voice.

John smiled at the _love_, and said, "Morning".

He rolled over, snuggled up to Sherlock, and kissed him. He hummed happily at the kiss, making the doctor smile. John laid his head on the younger man's shoulder, yawned, closed his eyes, and fell back to sleep.

When John woke later, he was alone. He smiled at the fact that Sherlock had stayed in bed long enough for the doctor to wake up with him still there. That the detective wasn't there now was okay. He knew Sherlock didn't sleep a lot. John got out of bed, padded down the hall to the bathroom, and closed the door. He showered and dressed before going to the kitchen to make breakfast. What awaited him shocked him. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the flat. Everything seemed to be on the floor. John walked into the living room too shocked to say anything.

Sherlock was sitting in his armchair pouting, his arms crossed in front of him, looking for all the world like a petulant child.

"What the hell happened here, Sherlock?"

"Nothing."

"I'm not stupid, Sherlock. What were you looking for? You know you could have just come and asked me."

"I was looking for my experiment book", Sherlock said, averting his eyes.

John had a feeling this was really about the gift he knew Sherlock had seen him leave the shop with. He would have to warn Mrs. Hudson as soon as he could.

"You are going to pick all this up, Sherlock", he said sternly. The younger man rolled his eyes and snorted.

Just then there was a "woohoo" and knock at their door, and Mrs. Hudson walked in. She stopped when she saw the state of the flat, looked at Sherlock, and said, "You are going to straighten this mess up, young man. John shouldn't have to always be cleaning up after you."

The army doctor was about to protest that it was fine, when the landlady turned to John and said, "I need your help in my flat, John."

"Of course", John responded, eager to get away from Sherlock and the mess.

The doctor followed Mrs. Hudson downstairs and into her flat. Only when the door closed behind them did she smirk and say, "I see he's been looking for the present."

"He was good until this morning", John said. "I got up this morning and he had the flat apart and on the floor."

"Well, let's have some tea, and give him some time to straighten then, shall we."

"I don't think he's likely to straighten up the flat. He's probably tearing the rest of the flat apart right now."

"I better get back up there before he does too much damage."

"Alright dear", said the landlady, "but if you need to get away for a bit come down here and we can have a nice cuppa."

"Okay", John smiled, hugged Mrs. Hudson, and departed.

He ran back up the stairs, concerned about what destruction Sherlock could rain on the flat when no one was there to stop him.

He entered the flat, still messy, and could hear muttering coming from Sherlock's bedroom. He made his way down the hall and entered the bedroom to see that the younger man had the whole closet on the floor, and was on the floor looking under the bed. John drew a deep breath to calm himself, and asked, "Was there something you were needing in the closet or under the bed, Sherlock. And don't tell you did this because you're bored."

The detective jumped to his feet, and immediately looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His eyes were on the floor.

"Sherlock?"

The younger man bit his lip, his cheeks turning pink. He had been caught and he knew it. John could see him trying to think up an excuse. He smirked, but decided not to press the detective anymore. He walked over to the bed and proceeded to pull all the blankets and sheets off the bed.

"I'm going to wash the bedding. You can help by straightening up the flat", he said.

He went up to his own room, grabbing the bedding from there as well, and bringing the armload down. He hummed as he put the sheets and pillowcases in the washer, measured the laundry soap and put it in, and started it. He moved to the kitchen and made eggs, toast, and tea. He saw out of the corner of his eye, that Sherlock was at the living room window looking out. When the repast was ready he called out, "Breakfast on the table, love."

Sherlock turned and looked at him for a moment thoughtfully, then moved to the table and sat. They ate quietly, and when they were done, John cleared and wiped the table, and turned to wash the dishes.

Their entire day was filled this way. Neither really talking much, although the detective had badgered Mrs. Hudson incessantly throughout the day. The landlady had told John later that she was sure the younger man was trying to find out if the present was in her flat. She had shooed him out quickly before he could take apart her flat, too. Sherlock helped John straighten up the flat without comment. The detective seemed to be speculative. The doctor left him to himself, but it was nice that the younger man helped him.

It was evening now, dinner was enjoyed, dishes cleaned up, and the two men sat watching some crap telly, sipping tea. Sherlock had pouted all day, and whenever John questioned him on it he'd find something else to do.

John was half asleep on the couch when Sherlock moved from his armchair to the couch and curled up against him, laying his head on his shoulder. The doctor slipped his arm around the younger man's shoulders, and kissed the top of his head.

They fell asleep on the couch with the telly still on.

When John woke an hour later, Sherlock was gone. He got up, yawned and stretched, and headed for bed. Without thinking, he went up to his own room, and then stopped realizing that he'd done that without thinking. He hesitated about whether he should go back down to Sherlock's room or just sleep in his own bed. _It's not like Sherlock sleeps a lot anyway _he thought. Then he thought of that morning when he and the detective had snuggled and knew he didn't want to miss the chance of that happening again. He did decide to grab some sleep pants, and his dressing gown and headed down the stairs to the younger man's room. He laid his few things on the dresser, quickly changed into his sleep pants, and crawled into bed. It felt weird to be in Sherlock's bed now. They usually fell asleep together after lovemaking. He wondered where the man was.

He woke during the night when he felt the bed dip, and a pale arm wrapped around him. He felt a cold nose press to the back of his head, and a long, slow inhale. He sighed contentedly and went back to sleep.

John was awakened later by a loud thump. He sat up quickly, instantly alert, looking around. Sherlock wasn't in the bed. Just then a dark, curly head peaked over the edge of the bed.

"Sherlock, what on earth happened? Are you alright?"

The detective stood, and crawled back into bed, and said, "I'm fine. Just a dream."

John laid back and pulled the younger man into his arms, and kissed the top of his head. Sherlock was trembling.

"You sure you're okay? Dreams don't usually end with yourself on the floor. Well not pleasant ones anyway."

"I'm fine, John."

He decided to let it go for now rather than irritate the other man. He would speak to him about it tomorrow. Right now he just wanted to go back to sleep.

They snuggled close and slept. And, for the first time, their exhaustion wasn't because of sex.

**A/N:** So there's the next chapter. Stay tuned to see how Sherlock ended up on the floor, and, of course, Sherlock's birthday. :D


	8. Chapter 8

Hi: When I started this fic I had actually intended it to be one chapter. It's expanded into a full blown story. I keep finding little things to write about. Enjoy :D

_**Sherlock's POV**_

When John had fallen asleep on the couch, Sherlock had carefully extricated himself from the doctor, turned the telly off, and gone up to the roof to think. The detective knew that John would eventually wake up and head to bed. Which bed he went to Sherlock was curious to see.

He had gone to the roof to think about his feelings, and he wanted to do it away from John. The younger man didn't want to be distracted as he knew he would be if he had stayed on the couch with his army doctor. And when had he started calling him "his army doctor". That had slipped right by him.

Sherlock had stayed on the roof thinking, not noticing the cold. He let himself delve into his feelings and was lost in his own mind for a long time. His body trembling rather hard brought him out of his thoughts. He was really cold. Must have caught a chill. The cold felt like it was in his bones he was so cold. The thought of his bed, and possibly John in it, made him hasten down to his room.

When he stepped into his room, he was elated that John was there. He was in the centre of the bed. Sherlock pulled off his clothes and in just his underpants crawled into bed and snuggled up to John. _Oh yes he's so warm._ The doctor stirred a little and then drifted off again when the detective settled down behind him. There really wasn't a lot of space for him even though he was slim. He fell asleep with his arm around John.

Sherlock awoke later still feeling cold. He thought about getting up and putting on a t-shirt and sleep pants. He rolled back to look up at the ceiling and think forgetting that he was so close to the edge of the bed, and fell off with a resounding thump. He heard John wake and sit up, and was worried that he'd be in full soldier mode. He peaked carefully over the edge of the bed, and saw the doctor looking back at him, not the soldier. Until he started breathing again, he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath.

Sherlock was annoyed that he'd woken John. He looked still very tired, and he knew he'd tested his patience all day too. John was talking to him, "Sherlock, what on earth happened. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just a dream", Sherlock lied. He didn't want to start an argument with John about hogging the bed. He crawled back into bed, noticing he was still very cold. He wanted to warm up, so he gladly moved into the doctor's arms to snuggle. Thankfully he'd moved over on the bed and had made room for the younger man now.

"You sure you're okay? Dreams don't usually end with yourself on the floor. Well not pleasant ones anyway."

"I'm fine, John."

Sherlock really didn't want to have this discussion anymore, and thankfully John went back to sleep. The detective laid there and shivered for awhile longer before he finally started warming up. _How bloody long had I been out there,_ he thought. He wasn't going to disturb the doctor again tonight just to look at the clock. The younger man stayed put and continued his earlier train of thought.

_There was certainly sexual attraction, and John had called him "love" today too._ So what he had to figure out is was he in love with John, and was John in love with him. He had searched his mind palace for any physical manifestations of love. He'd thought about how John reacted physically when close to him (aside from sex), and also how he reacted to John. Yes he was fairly sure that he was in love with John, but apart from calling him "love" and saying he loved the detective he hadn't really said it that much. But then their relationship was new. He stopped at that thought and smiled, he was in a relationship with John. That meant no more of those boring dates of his. They were exclusive. Suddenly Sherlock could see himself growing old with John by his side. With that happy thought he went to sleep, not noticing that he was no longer shivering and cold.

**A/N:** I decided to post the fall from Sherlock's POV seperate from his birthday. It would have been too long. So a short chapter and then a long one again. Please R&R. I love hearing from everyone.


	9. Chapter 9

Hi, here is the next chapter for all my followers and favouriters. This is the chapter you've been waiting for. Sherlock's Birthday. What did John get him? Hmmmmmm. Once again smut ahead and slight mention of kinks.

John awoke to an empty bed once again. He was used to Sherlock not being there in the morning, but he was okay with that because the detective comes to bed and snuggles, and, of course, there was the great sex, too. He stretched and rolled onto his back enjoying a few minutes of peace before he got up. He wondered where Sherlock had been for so long. Then it hit him. The detective falling out of bed and trembling and saying he was fine.

John knew he wasn't fine. Whatever had taken him out of the flat for so long last night was what had landed him on the floor too. He was sure of it. Yet he remembered the sigh as the detective snuggled against him when he crawled back into bed. Maybe he had worked through whatever was bothering him. Maybe he was trying to figure out all the feelings. Sentiment was never his area after all. He decided not to mention it, but instead let Sherlock do that if he wanted to talk about it.

John sighed, and decided to get up and shower. He grabbed a robe and went into the bathroom and showered.

The doctor came out with only a towel around his waist and was just out the door of the bathroom when he heard a gasp behind him. Before he could turn around a pair of slender, pale arms encircled him and pulled him back against a bare chest.

"Good Morning", said a low baritone, close to his ear. It sent a shiver down his spine. The other man felt it and lowered his head to kiss his neck. John tilted his head to give Sherlock more skin to kiss. He closed his eyes and his breath caught in his throat as he felt soft lips brushing along his neck. Long fingers slowly stroked the skin just below his navel, following the trail of fine hair lower. The towel dropped to the floor unnoticed, as those delightful fingers stroked soft skin. He could hear the heavy breathing in his ear, and the fingers he desperately wanted to move lower. He was hard already, and the younger man had barely touched him. He could feel the hardness that was pressing against his arse through thin silk. Oh god he wanted this so badly right now. He had missed the intimacy with his mad genius last night.

A knock and "woohoo" sounded at their flat door. The long arms withdrew and John turned to look back to see the detective walk down the hall. _Damn I have to be the luckiest man alive to have such a beautiful man to love, and who loved him. And I can touch him any time I want,_ John thought.

"Happy Birthday, Sherlock", came the landlady's cheery voice.

John turned and grabbed the towel from the floor and wrapped it around himself and ran up to his room to get dressed and comb his hair. He decided to grab some extra clothes and take them to Sherlock's room seeing as he was spending every night there anyway. He quickly stowed the clothes in the bedroom, and walked to the sitting room

When he walked in, Mrs. Hudson was busy pouring tea for Sherlock who was still clad in just his boxers. There was fresh scones and jam on the coffee table. When did the dear lady ever find time to make those every morning.

"Sherlock don't you think you should put a robe on?"

The younger man looked at John perplexed until the doctor looked down at his boxers pointedly. Sherlock looked down and said, "Oh of course. Excuse me." and left the room.

John and Mrs. Hudson looked at each other and smiled and shook their heads.

"I have your box whenever you're ready for it", the landlady whispered conspiratorially.

"Later", John said. He stopped short of saying anything else as Sherlock re-entered the room wearing a robe.

"I see there has been a few additions to the room", Sherlock smirked.

John blushed, and turned to the landlady to ask after her niece.

They sat and enjoyed tea and scones with their beloved landlady and talked. When Mrs. Hudson got up to leave, John offered to carry the tray down for her. She and the doctor moved quickly down the stairs and into her flat. She retrieved the gift as John set the tray by the sink.

"So what did you get him?", she asked excitedly, as she handed the box to him.

He smiled and shook his head, "It's a secret." He winked. The landlady chuckled, and held the door open for him as he left.

John made his way quietly up the stairs and managed to get up to his room to hide the gift. He wanted to wait until tonight to give it to him. He slipped quietly down the stairs and walked into the sitting room again. Sherlock was laying on the couch with his hands steepled in front of him in his thinking pose.

The doctor decided to clean up the kitchen so that it was clean for the birthday dinner. He had thought about having a party for Sherlock but knew that the man loathed social functions, and he decided to just have a private little party with just the two of them. He had to go out and buy a few things from Tesco's, and told the detective that he would be going out. He didn't really expect to get an answer from the younger man who was still in his thinking pose.

John returned with bags of groceries and stepped into the flat to see that Sherlock apparently hadn't moved an inch. He took the bags into the kitchen and put the food away, made tea for himself, and coffee for Sherlock, and went into the sitting room, set the coffee by Sherlock and sat in his own chair. Sherlock opened his eyes, sat up, and took the cup and sipped. He looked at the doctor over the brim of his cup. John was engrossed in the paper.

The detective watched John as he read, without moving. Finally the doctor sighed, put down the paper, and looked at Sherlock.

"You've been staring at me for the last hour."

"Sorry" the younger man blushed and looked away.

"I didn't say it was unwelcome. It's not often I have your undivided attention for so long", John chuckled, "So what were you thinking about?"

It actually took Sherlock a minute to realize that John was talking about earlier. He looked away again and said, "You."

John was surprised. "Me? What could there be about me that needs that much thought."

Sherlock turned the full force of his heated gaze on John, and the doctor swallowed a gasp as he felt his body heat up again. The detective stood and slowly walked over to him, eyes never leaving his doctor. He leaned down so that his face was inches away, and whispered, "You are very complex to me, John. You've killed for me a day after meeting me, and have always protected me and watched out for me, even made me eat and sleep when I would not have otherwise done so", his voice lowered as he leaned closer, John's breath becoming ragged quickly, "And you are so attractive when you blush like that." Their lips met in a heated kiss, John moaning softly as he felt a tongue slide along his lower lip. He gasped, as he felt that hot tongue slide in and tangle with his, making him moan loudly. A moment later, he felt legs slide along his until the detective was straddling him. The doctor wrapped his arms around Sherlock and pulled him close slowly drawing circles with his fingers at the base of the younger man's spine just above the cleft of his arse. He moaned and pressed harder against John, and then they both gasped as they felt their rigid cocks brush.

John slid his hands slowly up the detective's chest, lightly pinching the hardened nipples earning him a gasp from the other man. The soft skin was so delicious he wanted to touch him all day.

He slipped the silk robe from pale shoulders and tangled his fingers in soft, ebony curls, deepening the kiss.

The doctor's jumper was pulled up and they broke the kiss long enough to pull it over his head, then their lips meshed again hungrily. John was breathing heavily, very aware of his raging hard on. Sherlock was rubbing against John now, making them both moan and press harder against one another. The detective's long fingers slid down and undid John's jeans, sliding inside to stroke the aching cock inside. He gasped at the touch, and then moaned as Sherlock continued to stroke passing his thumb over the sensitive head each time. John knew he wouldn't last if this kept up. Sherlock must have heard his thoughts because he was suddenly standing and pulling the doctor's jeans and pants off in one motion. Then pulling his own silk boxers off. While he was doing that John pulled off his t-shirt and threw it, not caring where it landed. Now with both completely naked, the younger man straddled the doctor once more. The moment their engorged cocks brushed they both gasped. They were kissing ravenously now. They couldn't get enough of each other.

Sherlock started thrusting, rubbing sensitive skin against sensitive skin making John cry out, "Sherlock". The detective trailed kisses down his doctor's neck, and stopped to suck the sensitive skin just below his ear, making John moan again, and buck up. He couldn't stand it much longer.

"Sh-Sherlock, please", he begged.

The detective reached down the side of John's chair and retrieved a small bottle of lube, and slicked up both their cocks and their bellies thoroughly. Then pressed closely and started thrusting his hips making their over sensitive cocks rub together. Sherlock gasped at the sensations, his eyes wide, looking straight into John's wide eyes. They held their gaze as they moved faster and faster against each another, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable, cries of pleasure echoing around the small sitting room. The detective's hands were gripping the back of the chair to thrust harder.

John was crying out now, beyond words, his eyes still locked with Sherlock's. Each watching the other as the pleasure swept through them. Suddenly the younger man's body started to shake and he cried out as hot spurts landed on their chests and bellies. Seeing the look of ecstasy on his face made John come hard, arching his back and crying out. He was shaking with the intensity of it. Then they collapsed against each other breathing hard. Sherlock's head was on the doctor's shoulder and John leaned his head back while they caught their breath. After a while, Sherlock started to move, and John held his hips and said, "No, not yet. Okay?"

The detective nodded his head, and they stayed in the chair, cuddling in the warm afterglow. The doctor stroked Sherlock's back gently, and said, "Shower?" The younger man sat up and nodded shyly.

It always amazed John how the detective could be so forward one moment and so shy the next. It was so adorable he couldn't help but smile.

"Come along then", he said. They stood and John took Sherlock's hand and led him down the hallway to the bathroom. The shower took longer than expected, but it was very pleasurable indeed.

They finally emerged from the shower and went into their bedrooms to dress. John went down to the sitting room to gather up their clothes and deposited them in the hamper. He was smiling to himself happily. It was turning out to be a great birthday for Sherlock.

Sherlock came out of the bedroom and declared that he was going to do some experiments. John decided to go for a walk. As he was grabbing his coat from the hook by the door Sherlock called to him from the kitchen. John walked to the doorway, "Yes?"

"I was thinking that you should move all your stuff down to my room. You do spend all your nights there now anyways."

John was surprised, but pleased, "Of course. I'd love to." He smiled happily and so did Sherlock.

As he left the building, he texted Lestrade. He needed him to keep Sherlock busy for the afternoon, so he could prepare Sherlock's birthday dinner, and now move all his things downstairs to _their_ room. He smiled at that happy thought. He hadn't intended that when he had moved some clothes in there this morning. It made him happy to know that this was truly something Sherlock wanted too. They were in a relationship now.

He watched from Speedy's as Sherlock left the flat, hailed a taxi, and took off.

Perfect. Now he could bake a cake and get dinner cooking.

Sherlock was happy that he had a case today. He didn't want anyone to make a fuss about his birthday. He just wanted it to be a day like any other. He solved the case that same day, and was on his way home in a taxi, happy with the conclusion. It wasn't really that hard, but he knew John wanted him out of the flat for the day when he saw the doctor in Speedy's watching him leave. He took longer than he really needed on the case so that he would arrive back at the flat at around 5 p.m. hoping it would have given John enough time for whatever he had planned. He was pretty sure what the doctor was doing though.

It's true he didn't want anyone making a fuss about his birthday, but it made him feel warm and happy that John wanted to. Mrs. Hudson had made a fuss in her own way with the tea and scones and jam that morning. He smiled with fondness for their dear landlady.

Sherlock opened the door to delicious smells. It smelled so good that he didn't think he'd have any trouble eating tonight. He sniffed again. Was that something sweet he could smell? What had the doctor been cooking? His mouth watered and his tummy grumbled loudly and he looked down in surprise.

The detective took the stairs two at a time, and strode into the sitting room. The delicious smells hit him full force. He hummed with pleasure not realizing he'd done so.

"Is that you, Sherlock?", John said as he walked to the door of the kitchen. He smiled at the sight of the younger man standing there sniffing the air with obvious pleasure.

Sherlock quickly pulled off his coat, hung it up, and strode to the kitchen. John was just putting two plates of food on the table. The doctor had made turkey, stuffing, cooked mixed veg, salad, mashed potatoes, and gravy. It smelled heavenly. There was a tablecloth adorning the table that he must have borrowed from Mrs. Hudson, candles twinkled, and there was a bottle of wine on the table as well.

He smiled, and John pulled him into a kiss and said, "Happy Birthday, Sherlock."

"John, you didn't have to do all this for me. We could have gone to Angelo's for dinner."

"I wanted to cook for you, Sherlock."

The detective was stunned that his army doctor would want to do something like this for him. Nobody ever did these kinds of things for him.

"Shall we?", John said.

"Oh definitely."

The doctor smirked at that as they sat. They enjoyed their meal and the wonderful wine John had remembered Sherlock liked. Afterwards, the doctor cleaned up while Sherlock played his violin by the window. It was a beautiful melody that he had heard the detective play before. When the kitchen was cleaned up, John reached into the fridge and pulled out the cake he had made earlier that day, set it on the table, lit the candles, and carried it into the sitting room.

Sherlock turned and immediately stopped playing when he saw John walking into the sitting room with a lit cake and a big smile.

"Is that for me too?"

"Yes", John smiled.

Sherlock looked surprised. "You didn't have to do that. The dinner was enough for me."

"I know, but I wanted to make something special for my boyfriend", John said happily. Sherlock loved the sound of that. _My boyfriend._ He smiled warmly.

John set the cake on the coffee table and said, "Okay, make a wish and blow out the candles." Sherlock paused, thought for a moment, then smiled and blew. John grabbed plates, forks, and a knife from the kitchen, and cut large pieces of cake for each of them. Sherlock was secretly stunned by John's gesture. Nobody had ever given him a birthday cake before.

The detective sniffed the cake realizing that was the sweet smell he detected earlier. He took a forkful of cake and closed his eyes and moaned at the taste.

"Like it? It's black forest cake."

Sherlock swallowed the delicious mouthful, opened his eyes, and said, "What is black forest cake?"

"It's chocolate cake with whipped cream and cherries between each layer and covered with whipped cream, maraschino cherries, and chocolate shavings."

"It's delicious", Sherlock said around another mouthful of cake. It didn't take him long to finish off the piece and then proceeded to polish off two more pieces. John chuckled softly at the detective. Apparently he hadn't been introduced to sweets until now. He took the rest of the cake, covered it, and put it in the fridge, promising the detective that he could have more tomorrow. He cleaned away the plates and forks and returned to the sitting room once more. They sat on the couch sipping their wine.

"John thank you, it was a wonderful birthday."

"You deserve it, love."

A part of Sherlock thrilled to the sound of the endearment, and John's seemingly endless loving gestures.

John set down his wine glass and reached under the edge of the couch and brought out the wrapped present Sherlock had seen him leaving the shop with a few days before. John handed him the gift, smiling shyly. The detective took the box and like an excited child tore the wrapping off. He opened the box and gasped. He looked at John wide eyed. The doctor fidgeted, he hoped it wasn't too soon to give his gorgeous boyfriend such a gift.

Then the detective grinned wickedly and pulled out a pair of soft velvet handcuffs.

Looking the blushing doctor in the eyes he said, "I know just what to do with these."

John blushed even harder. He could feel the heat in his face.

Sherlock slid close to the doctor and kissed him deeply. When they finally broke apart, panting, the detective said, "Shall we try these out?" in a low voice that made John shiver with desire.

"Oh god yes."

With that Sherlock grabbed his arm and led him to their bedroom, leaving the now forgotten wine on the table.

**A/N:** And there you have it. This was a much longer chapter, but I couldn't bring myself to break it up. Hope you all enjoyed this fic. Thank you so much to followers, favouriters, and reviewers. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Hi, I am so sorry about the delay in posting another chapter. Here is the next chapter. I made it an extra long chapter. Fair warning smut ahead. I was given this idea by my best friend, retrochick101 on Tumblr. Enjoy!

John was furious. He couldn't believe that Sherlock would actually accept an invitation from Mycroft, that smarmy brother of his. It was for his masquerade party. John didn't want to go, but Mycroft had tackled Sherlock when the good doctor was at work. Apparently, the idea was to come in any costume you wanted as long as you wear a mask. It was supposed to be "fun" trying to figure out who everyone was. Why was John upset? Because Sherlock, the great git, had accepted the invitation for he and John to entertain the children who would be there. Part of that was getting their pictures taken with each child, so they had to wear superhero costumes.

"God, you couldn't wait until I got home?", John said, testily.

"I am not a child, John. I am capable of making my own decisions", Sherlock said, cooly.

"Yes, but you answered for me, as well, Sherlock. I don't want to look after children all night."

"We won't be looking after them all night. We just entertain them for a half hour, get some pictures taken with the children, and then we'll be free to enjoy the dance."

"When have you ever enjoyed anything at Mycroft's house?"

"John", Sherlock said, calmly sitting down on the sofa beside John, pouting, "I was hoping that we could dance together."

Sherlock looked so crestfallen in that moment that John knew he would give into Sherlock. He would do anything for his beautiful detective. He just didn't like the idea of having to wear a superhero costume. They were always made for tall men, and because he was short he would look like a child in an adults costume. Sherlock must have been reading his thoughts because he suddenly said, "John I am having my tailor make costumes for us both. He has our measurements already."

John looked up astonished. He hadn't expected Sherlock to do something like that.

"So what superheroes are we to be."

"You'll just have to wait until the costumes arrive", Sherlock smirked.

John narrowed his eyes at Sherlock. For some reason that smirk made him feel uneasy.

Sherlock could tell that John was a little uneasy about the costumes, but he knew John would be perfect for the costume he had in mind for him. He got up and went over to the window, picked up his violin and started playing. He had his back to the doctor and he couldn't see the look of frustration directed at his back, but he felt it all the same. He knew John liked to feel like he had control over any situation. He heard the sigh of resignation from the good doctor and only then did he relax and let himself be drawn into the music.

_Damn why did Sherlock have to be so enigmatic about a silly costume. The insufferable git._, John thought. He was annoyed because he wanted to pick out his own costume and now he had to rely on Sherlock picking out one that would suit him. He knew there was no point arguing with his boyfriend about it. He sighed and got up and headed to the kitchen to make himself some tea. It looked like Sherlock was going to be absorbed in his violin for awhile. He was playing a beautiful tune and John was enjoying it. When his tea was made, he sat in his chair prepared to listen for awhile.

Sometime during Sherlock's impromptu concert John fell asleep. The detective laid his violin down and walked over to his army doctor asleep in his chair. If he left him there John would be sore in the morning and that would make him grumpy all day tomorrow, and if he woke him up he'd pepper Sherlock with questions about the costumes they would be wearing. He didn't want to answer any questions, but instead see John's reaction when he saw the costumes. Sherlock looked at his sleeping boyfriend again. He was tired when he came home from his job today so he was sleeping soundly now. He eased forward and slowly and carefully slid one sinewy arm under the doctor's knees and the other arm around his shoulders and lifted slowly and carefully until he was standing with John in his arms. The doctor stirred a little moving to snuggle into the younger man's chest and was still again.

Sherlock turned and carefully made his way down to their bedroom where he lay the good doctor on the bed and slowly undressed him. John stirred a little as the detective relieved him of his clothes, and then the younger man pulled the sheet and blankets up over him. The doctor snuggled into the blankets and slept on.

Sherlock smiled and quickly undressed sliding under the sheet and blankets. He lay there for a few moments with his eyes open. He wanted John's arm around him. He couldn't sleep properly if he didn't. He slid over a little more and nudged his bum against the doctor who immediately slid his arm around the detective and buried his nose in the back of the younger man's neck. Sherlock sighed happily and drifted off to sleep.

The morning sun was streaming in the window shining directly on Sherlock's face, waking him. He opened his eyes and immediately squinted against the strong sunlight. He rolled over and saw the other side of the bed empty. He sat up looking at the clock and realized that John had left him to sleep and quietly got ready for work. It was now almost 11 in the morning. Sherlock got up, wrapped a sheet around himself and sleepily made his way to the kitchen. As he was making himself tea he heard a deep rumble and looked down at himself. He opened the sheet and looked again. Another loud rumble told him that his stomach was asserting it's need for food, but John wasn't here to make him some breakfast. He looked in the cupboards and found some jam. He didn't recall John ever saying anything about this jam. The label said it was chokecherry jam. Hmmmm! One of his army buddies must have sent it to him. He didn't recall John ever mentioning it to him though.

Sherlock shrugged and opened the jar and sniffed at the contents. It smelled delicious. Well maybe he'd try just a bit on some toast. Should he check with John to make sure it was okay?

He decided he'd better, but just this once. He didn't want him upset with him on the eve of the costume party. He went back to the bedroom and grabbed his mobile and sent a text to John.

**Is it okay if I try some of that chokecherry jam in the cupboard?-SH**

Almost instantly there was a reply.

**Yes go ahead. It was sent to me by Sam from Canada. I don't care for it though so you can have it all if you want. -JW**

**Sam?-SH**

**Old army buddy. He's stationed in Canada now. He helps with the war games there.-JW**

Sherlock frowned at that. War games! Sounds dull.

**Okay, thanks John. I love you-SH**

**Love you too.-JW**

The detective made some toast and spread lots of jam on it. He took a bite and hummed his approval. John's army buddy certainly has good taste. A bit of the jam dropped on his chest. He frowned and used his finger to wipe it off his chest and then sucked it off his finger. He smirked mischievously thinking about what it would taste like on John. He was picturing John laying on the kitchen table writhing with pleasure and Sherlock slowly licking jam off him. Oh yes that was definitely an experiment he'd like to try. He reluctantly left that fantasy for another time making a mental note to ask John to help him with that "experiment". The detective yawned feeling tired. He frowned and wondered why he was feeling so tired. He'd just slept all night with John. It must have been the case they had just finished up the day before. They had run themselves rather ragged with that one. It had taken them nearly the whole week to solve it. With a sigh Sherlock laid down on the sofa, yawning widely, and fell asleep.

John was at the door of the flat when he realized that there was no sound coming from inside. He sighed, his shoulders sagging a little. He had hoped that Sherlock would be home when he got back from work. He had been missing him all day. He opened the door and shuffled inside only to be startled by a light snore. He looked around to see the younger man asleep on the couch. He smirked evilly. Yes John was smirking evilly.

He walked over to the sleeping detective and looked at him. Yes he was sleeping deeply. That had been too easy. He knew the detective would eventually find that jam in the cupboard. This was the perfect day for him to find it. Now he would get some answers. Silly of Sherlock to leave the rest of that truth serum in the fridge. A few drops in a jar of jam was all he needed. He knew the detective had a sweet tooth. It was only a matter of time before he would find the jam. Sherlock had even swallowed his story of how he came to have that jam in the cupboard.

The detective would wake up and not notice anything unusual because the git told people the truth most of the time anyway, whether it hurt them or not. So it wouldn't be immediately noticeable to the detective.

There was a knock at the street door, and John heard Mrs. Hudson answer it. A few moments later she came up the stairs and, seeing John still standing just inside the door, smiled and said, "This package just arrived for Sherlock, dear. Would you give it to him when he comes in? Oh!"

She had just noticed that Sherlock was indeed in, and asleep on the sofa.

"The poor dear. Running all over London for that case. He must be exhausted. I'll just set this here", she said as she set the package on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson", John said with a smile.

She smiled and patted John's arm, and left the flat closing the door quietly. As soon as the door closed John quickly moved to lock it. It wouldn't do to have her walk in now. He hung up his jacket and removed his shoes, and padded over to the coffee table quietly picking up the package and moving it to the desk. He moved over to the sofa again and sat on the coffee table, looking at Sherlock sleeping. He looked so young when he slept, like an angel. He leaned over to move a lock of hair off the detective's forehead. John sat and drank in the sight of his gorgeous boyfriend sleeping peacefully, and looking so young and vulnerable. The sheet had slipped a little and showed a marble chest with light coloured hair that you couldn't see unless you were up close. His eyes trailed over the muscled chest and moved to the long graceful neck, then up to the sharp cheekbones and those cupid's bow lips that he ached to kiss. When his trousers started to feel a little tight he tore his eyes away from the delectable sight. He thought about what he wanted to do next. Would it still work with Sherlock asleep? He could have a little fun with that. Just then the detective stirred and opened his eyes looking up at John. He smiled up at his doctor with big, bright blue eyes that told John of his love for him.

"Hey sleepyhead", he teased with a fond smile, and leaned down and kissed Sherlock. It was a quick peck and the younger man pouted when John sat back. "You had a good sleep?"

"Mmmm", Sherlock hummed in agreement, stretching cat-like and sitting up.

"I'll get us some tea, yeah?"

"Sure."

John got up and went to the kitchen to make their tea as Sherlock got up and adjusted the sheet around himself.

"Oh a package came for you. It's on the desk."

The younger man swooped down on said package and zipped into their bedroom with it. John looked bewildered at the sudden energy of the man. He shook his head and continued to making tea. _Damn, he had hoped he'd have time to peek into the package and see what the costumes were._ Sherlock came back out of the bedroom in his blue silk robe just as John finished making tea. The younger man grabbed his cup and went into the sitting room and sat in his chair. John picked up his mug and followed, sitting in his chair.

"So that costume party is tonight right?"

Sherlock hummed agreement. John smiled and was about to ask what their costumes were to be knowing that Sherlock would have to tell the truth because of the serum, but Sherlock's mobile dinged indicating a message. Sherlock picked it up and opened the text.

"Mycroft will be sending a car for us. It should be here about 6:30."

John looked at the clock. It was just 5 now. He figured he'd better go have a shower right away. He didn't want to keep Sherlock waiting. The detective suddenly stood and said, "I'll go have a shower now." He moved a few steps before turning back and smirking mischievously at the doctor and saying, "Care to join me."

The good doctor didn't need to be asked twice. He was up out of his chair and following his beautiful boyfriend down the hallway to the washroom smiling. They had time for an extra long shower and it was definitely going to be an extra long shower he decided as he closed the door behind him.

John and Sherlock were sitting in the back seat of the sleek black car that Mycroft had sent for them. They held their masks in their hands. They wouldn't don those until they arrived at Mycroft's estate. John was fidgeting and pulling at the costume.

"Do stop doing that John. You'll stretch it all out of shape."

"It's just tighter than anything I would wear", John said clearly uncomfortable in the skin tight costume.

"It's looks smashing on you." Sherlock smiled at John thinking about the moment he saw him in the costume. It showed off the tight, muscled body he had gotten from his time in the army. He looked so good in it that Sherlock felt a sudden stab of jealousy. This was his John and he was trying hard not to let him see how much it bothered him that others would see and be ogling the good doctor's beautiful body. His tailor had done an exceptional job on them. It accentuated John's tight butt, muscled torso, and washboard abs. He was indeed delicious in that costume. He'd have to keep the doctor by his side all evening or there would be females draping themselves all over him. The detective felt another pang of jealousy.

John watched Sherlock's profile. He was strung tight tonight. He hoped he hadn't overdosed him. He felt a small pang of regret. Maybe he should have warned him about the jam. The doctor's eyes travelled over his boyfriend. Yes the costume looked amazing on him. It hugged all the right places, showing off that luscious arse, the long sinewy arms, runners legs and the muscled chest and abs. He eyed the younger man's thighs his fingers itching to stroke and tease. He felt a twitch of interest from between his legs and decided he'd better think about something else. He didn't need to show up at the party aroused in a costume that would show it all too well.

When they arrived at Mycroft's they walked to the door, only donning their masks after they were let in.

Mycroft walked over crooking an eyebrow at them.

"Really?", he said disdainfully, "Batman and Robin?"

John seethed and Sherlock snarled, "Well, brother dear, I see you picked the perfect costume for yourself. King Henry VII. You're certainly big enough to fill the roll."

Mycroft snapped, "I'm not fat. I've lost weight actually."

Sherlock smirked knowing he'd pricked his older brother good. He took John by the arm and moved away, walking over to the man whom he recognized as being the one who was in charge of the children's party.

They were shown to the room where the children's party was taking place. John had to admit he had fun entertaining the children, even the pictures were kind of fun. He was still a little blinded from the repeated flashing of the camera bulbs. Trust Mycroft to hire a professional photographer to take the pictures.

The doctor was blinking and looking around for his boyfriend when he spotted him still being crowded by awestruck children. They loved Batman apparently. He determined to rescue his love so they could have the promised dance. He made his way over to Sherlock and managed to extricate him from the children, but in doing so his costume ripped down the butt showing off his red pants underneath. Of all the nights to pick to wear his red pants. Mortified he grabbed Sherlock and hustled him out of the room before the children saw the tear. Unfortunately they thought it was a game and chased after them. The doctor and the detective had to run and hide from them. They managed to dodge the children and escaped into a quiet hallway and quickly ducked into a linen closet. They stood there for a few moments catching their breath. John could feel his cheeks flaming crimson at the thought of anyone seeing the butt torn on his costume. He didn't bring a jacket and there was nothing he could find to wrap around himself until they got home and out of the costume. He briefly considered a towel, but on a closer look saw they were all too small. He was a little disappointed that he wouldn't get that dance with Sherlock now.

Just then a low, baritone voice rumbled in his ear, "Red pants John? I underestimated you. Very sexy indeed."

The words made a shiver of pleasure zing down the doctor's back. He felt long arms encircle him from behind and then Sherlock's breath was tickling down his neck seconds before soft lips touched hot skin, brushing lightly. The doctor shivered again, his breath catching.

"Sh-Sherlock…." he couldn't get anymore out as he felt long fingers stroking his chest. The fingers leisurely circle and then brush against first one nipple and then the other, making John gasp, his head falling back onto the younger man's shoulder. He heard a deep chuckle from the other man, and then before he could react a tongue flicked against the shell of his ear. Unable to resist, he turned his head and felt soft lips take his in a searing kiss. He moaned helplessly as Sherlock kissed, and sucked, and nibbled John's lips until his legs threatened to give out. Those long fingers continued to stroke lower and lower moving at his hips to stroke his sides. He felt the zipper sliding down on the back of his costume, soft lips tasting his skin as it was revealed. He could feel the younger man's arousal pressing firmly into his backside. The thin material slipped off his shoulders and he felt the other man move away a little as he knelt to slide the fabric down his legs to pool at his feet. Cool fingers stroked up his calves and then his thighs, slowly moving around to the inside of his thigh. Hot breath ghosted over his hip and he shivered and had to grope for the wall to hold himself up. He heard rather than saw the silky fabric of the Batman costume slide off the detective. Then he felt Sherlock's arousal hot and hard pressing against his arse.

John was shaking with need. He'd never been the one to be penetrated before and he was a little nervous. He was excited too because he loved Sherlock and desperately wanted this. His pants slid down his thighs to join the costume at his feet. He heard the click of a cap opening and briefly wondered where Sherlock had managed to hide the lube in a body hugging costume. He stopped thinking altogether when he felt slick fingers circling his entrance. Sherlock's voice was in his ear again, deep and sultry as he said, "I'm going to fuck you John, fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk for a week."

John shivered with anticipation at the words as he felt one long finger slide into him. The doctor concentrated on relaxing as Sherlock stretched him one finger becoming two and then three fingers. He gasped as those talented fingers brushed his prostate making him arch his back, pushing back on them. He keened as he felt the fingers slide out of him only to moan loudly a moment later when he felt Sherlock's hot, slick hardness slide in. When the detective was all the way in he stopped to give his doctor's body time to adjust. Then he started to thrust slowly making the doctor moan and gasp and push back against him taking him deep inside him, crying out when he brushed that sweet spot. Keeping that angle one hand grasped the doctor's hip, the other stroking his arousal, and started thrusting harder and faster, and harder and faster, driven by the other man's moans and cries of pleasure.

John could feel the pleasure building slowly, driven wilder by the moans and cries of his love behind him. The thrusting got faster and wilder as both men lost control, cries of pleasure mingling in the small space. Heat was pooling low in his belly and he knew he was getting close.

"Getting close….", he gasped, unable to continue as Sherlock pounded his sweet spot relentlessly.

"Me too…", Sherlock panted.

"Ohgodohgodohgod….", he cried and then he was screaming as he came hard in hot, thick ropes over the detective's hand, feeling Sherlock a moment later crying out as he spilt inside him. They stayed that way catching their breath, and then Sherlock slowly pulled out, gently releasing John's now oversensitive sex, wrapping his arms around him. The doctor turned his head kissing the younger man's temple. The detective hummed contentedly against the shorter man's shoulder.

After a while Sherlock stepped back grabbing a towel off a shelf and wiping off his hand, and cleaning up John and himself. John turned and wrapped his arms around his love, kissing him softly.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?", said the younger man softly.

"That was amazing", said the doctor happily.

Sherlock pulled back a little. "Now what should we do about that costume", he said smirking.

In the end, Sherlock gave his cape to John to wear. It was, thankfully, long enough to cover the split seat of his costume, being as it was made for the tall detective. They had snuck out of the closet and quickly made their way down to the ballroom where the dance was in full swing. Just as they entered the music changed to a slow dance, and Sherlock pulled his army doctor onto the crowded dance floor and they swayed with the music. It was dreamy, and wonderful, and they lost track of time dancing in each other's arms.

It was quite late when they arrived back at Baker Street, and were quiet as they entered and went up to their flat. Once inside with the door locked, John went up to his room and changed to his sleep pants and t-shirt. He came down to find the younger man already changed and reclining on the couch.

"Well, that was a lot of fun. I especially enjoyed the dancing", the doctor said as he moved his love's legs and sat, placing them on his lap. He was absentmindedly rubbing the detective's feet who was smiling with eyes closed, enjoying it.

His eyes popped open when the doctor paused in his rubbing. He watched the doctor frowning and obviously thinking hard. He moved his feet and sat up, looking at John, wondering what he was thinking about. He reached out tentatively and touched the doctor's shoulder, saying "Hey you okay?"

John shook himself out of his reverie and smiled at Sherlock, "I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes I'm fine."

Sherlock didn't look convinced, but let it drop. John would tell him in his own time.

"Want to watch some crap telly?"

"No, I think I'll just read for a bit", the doctor said as he picked up a book he'd been reading earlier in the week.

Sherlock got up saying that he was going to check on an experiment in the kitchen. John nodded absentmindedly, already engrossed in his book. The detective was worried what his love was thinking so intently about. It was an hour later and he couldn't stop thinking about it and it irritated him. He couldn't focus on his experiment and finally just threw it in the bin angrily, and stalked down the hallway to their bedroom. He flopped on the bed and curled up in the foetal position and pouted.

When John finished his book, he closed it with a sigh and looked around realizing Sherlock was not in the kitchen working on his experiment as he had said he would do. He set the book down, got up, and went in search of the detective, hoping he hadn't gone out without him hearing. He wandered down the hallway and to the closed door of their bedroom. His detective must be in there. He was wondering whether he should open the door or leave Sherlock alone. The thought of spending the night in his own room without his boyfriend in his arms propelled him forward and into their room. The detective was laying curled up on the bed his back to the door.

"Sherlock?", he said quietly, wondering if he was asleep.

The younger man didn't acknowledge John, but a slight movement told him the man was awake. He walked over and sat on the edge of their bed and touched the detective's arm.

"Hey you okay?"

Sherlock didn't say anything but twitched his arm away, continuing to pout. John sighed and touched the detective's arm again, "Come on Sherlock, I'm not like you. I can't deduce what's bothering you. Please just tell me."

The detective shifted a little, burying his face in the pillow, not wanting to talk about it. He didn't want to hear that John wanted to end the relationship now, that he was tired of dealing with him. He was hurting just thinking about it and he hated being ambushed by these emotions. He should never have gotten into the relationship in the first place. He felt John shift again, but he didn't leave.

John looked at his beautiful boyfriend and decided he'd have to let him tell him in his own time. He didn't want to leave him and have him think that he wasn't interested. He thought for a few moments and decided on the best course of action. He had his sleep pants and t-shirt on already, so the decision was simple. He laid down behind Sherlock, snuggled up to him, and wrapped his arm around his waist, their usual position while sleeping. He didn't sleep though. He wanted to be awake in case Sherlock decided to talk to him.

Sherlock felt the bed dip as his love laid down behind him and then his arm slide around his waist. He smiled then because he realized that John wouldn't have done that if he'd been thinking about ending the relationship, but he was still worried about what had the doctor thinking so hard. After some time with trying to puzzle it out he finally gave up, sighed, and turned over on his other side facing his love.

John lay there eyes open. He smiled when Sherlock turned over to face him, and he leaned in and kissed him softly.

He loved seeing that beautiful smile that lit up his boyfriend's eyes and made the lines on his face soften.

Sherlock snuggled in against the doctor's chest and asked hesitantly, "What were you thinking about earlier?"

John frowned, "Nothing really."

"You were in deep thought and frowning. Whatever you were thinking about was very much on your mind."

John hesitated, swallowed dryly, thought about how he could tell Sherlock without him being outraged or angry as he himself had been.

Sherlock felt the doctor stiffen, and he pulled back and looked up at him. His face was neutral and he was looking across the room, not at him. He felt a stab of pain and thought, _This isn't going to be good._

John knew Sherlock was observing him and reaching his own conclusions. He saw the hurt flash across his face before he carefully arranged his face, already closing himself down.

The detective couldn't take it any longer. He sat up and got out of bed, walking away towards the window on the far side of the room, sure that he would never feel John's arms around him again. He was facing the window, not wanting to see the doctor's face when he told him. He was fighting down his emotions, tears threatening to overwhelm him.

John was startled when the detective jumped out of bed, and walked away. He could see the cool expression on his face, and knew he had to stop this now before it was too late.

"Look, Sherlock, I…..I haven't been honest with you. I…I…"

Sherlock cringed waiting for the blow.

John sighed, standing, "You've got it all wrong, you know."

The detective's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't turn around. _What had he missed?_

"I….I didn't get the chokecherry jam from Sam….", John looked down at the floor, "I just saw it at a market and bought it. I didn't really think about it at the time. I just thought it would be a nice change. I put it in the cupboard and didn't remember it until a few days ago." John hesitated again.

_Jam? JAM!? Why the hell was John talking about jam?_

"I just thought that you were always doing experiments on me and that one with the truth serum made me decide to turn the tables on you. You had left the rest of the serum in the fridge and I thought it would be fun to make you the experiment for a change. So I put a few drops in the jam and left it in the cupboard for you to find. I knew you would want to try it."

John moved over behind Sherlock and continued, "I didn't know how much I'd put in the jar, but when I came home and found that you'd slept all day, I felt terrible about having done that. I wasn't sure if it would make you sick or if I'd somehow overdosed you. …. I am so sorry, Sherlock. I promise I won't do that again."

Sherlock didn't move or speak. "Please forgive me. I love you and I don't want to lose you over this. Please….", John sounded desperate even to himself, but he didn't care. He wanted Sherlock to say something, say it was alright, say anything.

Sherlock was dumbfounded. John had experimented on him? He was so wrong about what was worrying his little doctor. He smiled broadly and turned around to face John. Yes the doctor look surprised to see that wide grin on his love's face. "John you were experimenting on me? You?"

John smiled too and put his arms around the younger man's waist looking up at him. "Yes I was."

"Well doctor", Sherlock's voice dropped low and the doctor trembled at the sexiness of it, "since you have this newfound desire to experiment perhaps you would like to try another experiment."

"Hmmm that depends on what it is. Not the truth serum again."

"No, love, this will be a much more interesting experiment", Sherlock said low, brushing his lips against his boyfriend's neck, feeling the shiver run down his spine.

John's breath caught and he felt a delicious shiver run down his back at the light brush of soft lips, "Yes", he breathed.

The detective smiled and said, "Wait here" and bounded out of the room.

"Sherlock? Where are you going?"

The detective was back quickly and smirking, holding that damnable jar of jam.

"Sherlock we can't eat this. I put the truth serum in it. We could make ourselves sick."

"Ah, my good doctor, but I saw you putting the serum in the jar and waited until you left. Then switched the jar for a good one. I had a feeling it was intended for me."

John's mouth was hanging open, "You saw me do that?"

"Yes. Now enough of this nonsense. You are willing to help me with an experiment?"

"What kind of experiment?"

"I want to see how this jam will taste on you."

John grinned widely, "Oh god yes."

Hello all you lovely followers. Thank you so much for your patience while I got another chapter up. I hope you enjoy this. If there is anything you would like to see in this story, please let me know. I would love to hear from you. Please R&R. Thanks.


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